


Time After Time

by Abelas



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 03:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13494484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abelas/pseuds/Abelas
Summary: Nora is haunted by the death of her husband, the loss of her child, and an incorporeal creature she can't begin to understand. All she'd wanted was another chance at finding Shaun. Instead, her life is stuck on repeat, and her mind is full of thoughts not her own. She's at her limits.





	Time After Time

**Author's Note:**

> I binged a collection of Eldritch horror stories and had a depressing dream that went something like this. I couldn't help but write it down. All critique is welcome!

There were too many teeth in her mouth, and she was pretty sure her brain was unraveling. The Radroaches squealed, bit, and clawed. Their exoskeletons crunched like fresh fall leaves.  Except with more guts, bits of carapace, and bug legs. She flung herself out into the dirt, crying and flinging gore off of her vault suit. The rusty Vault-Tech trailer already stunk, the hot morning sun shriveling and sizzling the smallest bits of roach.

She should have just slept in the vault. Nate, his eyes frozen over like cataracts and his mouth ajar in horror, had followed her like a shroud as she’d puttered about. His breath once warm but now as cold as the rest of him, and his legs, rigid from cryo and rigor mortis, shuffled along the ground. She hadn’t meant to do this. Neither of her did. Both of her? Well, it was an accident.

She caressed her Pip-Boy. The tiny ridges of the dials, and each dip, screw, and button. The sensation was alien and familiar all at once. She flicked between screens. A nervous habit, her fiddling. Nate used to say it was cute. Radio. _Click._ Map. _Click._ Health monitor. _Click._ Notes. _Click._ Radio. _Click, Click._ Health monitor. _Clickclickclickclickclickclick_.

“You’re going to wear the dials out, hun.” Icy eyes, dragging feet. Jaw unmoving, frozen open.

“I didn’t hear you come up,” Her voice sounded like she was underwater.

“You’re not the woman I married.”

“Aren’t I?” Wedding rings, no diamond. Married in summer, hot wedding. Bouquet wilted.

“You’re not the woman I remember, then! You know what I mean, Mary!”

“What’d you call me?” A whisper. Distant. She’s supposed to be yelling, isn’t she?

“Nora. I said Nora.” He slams his drink. Turns away. Icy eyes.

“I don’t love you anymore.” Did she ever? Which one of her didn’t love him? Which one ever had?

Icy eyes, a mile-long stare. She blinked up into the sun and still saw them looking back. Had there ever been any warmth in them? She’d gotten pregnant. He’d been so warm then she had almost burst into flames. Cold before, and then cold again after. Not to Shaun, though. Thank god, it was never to Shaun. He’d loved Shaun from the beginning. Always had.

She blinked and looked around at all the houses of Sanctuary Hills. She’d…Yes, she’d walked down the hill, hadn’t she? She must have. None of the houses looked like they should. They were old, and broken. As if they were from somewhere else. Some-when else? Codsworth was dulled with age and rust had crept into his edges.

“Oh, mum! You’re back! How are you this morning?”

“I’m fine, Codsworth…” Distant. She was always too distant.

She closed her eyes and took a breath. She needed to be alert. Her fingers found her Pip-Boy again. _Clickclickclickclick._ A cold nose nudged her hand and she looked down with a shriek. Dogmeat whimpered and nudged her hand again, slobbering all over her fingers. She scratched behind his ear and gave a shuddering sigh. Codsworth was nowhere to be seen.

“Sorry, boy. I was just…Someone else, for a minute there.”

Dogmeat tilted his head. His eyes were warm and curious.

She looked up again. The Brahmin carcass was baking in the hot sun, and the Bloodbug had splattered the concrete beautiful shades of red. What was the name of that painter? Pollock? It reminded her of a Pollock painting. Red rocket receded behind her, and Concord loomed ahead. It felt wrong to be walking this road. They had always taken the car, before. She didn’t think she could stand to drive the road now, even if it was an option. It’d just make her sick.

“Are you alright, there, dear? Where’d you go in there?”

“Sorry, Mama Murphy.” She smiled. Too many teeth. She heard her jaw creak and her skin ripped to her ears. “You know me. I’m all over the place.”

“I know.”

“…What day is it, Murph?”

“Wouldn’t help much if I told ya,” Mama Murphy chuckled. “Bet you don’t even know what year it is.”

“Did you…?” She looked at the ground. _Too distant. Icy eyes._

“A little. Bits, mostly. You’re hard to see. I’ve never had to use the Sight on-”

“-I’m sorry.” She was. Both of her.

Murphy sighed. “You need grounding, kid.”

“I know. Please don’t say anything. You haven’t, have you? I will. I swear I will.”

“I can’t promise that anymore. Your friends just want to help. We all just want to help.”

She didn’t believe that. Neither of her did. She shuffled her boots on the floor of Mama’s living room. Even with the patchwork shades drawn over the busted-out windows, she could see darkness outside. The small red ember of a cigarette danced by, its owner quietly mumbling. She scratched at her hand; a small chunk of skin crumbed away like plaster, leaving a gaping hole of blackness in its wake.

“It’s 2287.”

“What was that, dear?”

“The year. 2287,” she put her head in her hands and her shoulders shook. “It’s always 2287.”

A hand rested on her shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. She shook her head and refused to move her hands from her eyes. Tears trickled from under her fingers. A chill settled on her left shoulder, cool air brushing by her ears. There, and gone. In, and out. The hand crept to her throat, caressing under her chin as another pulled her hands away from her face. The touch was like frost.

“It’ll be alright, hun. I’m still here.”

She sobbed and shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look at me. I’ll always be here for you.”

Her hands flew to her Pip-Boy.

“You did this to me. You killed me. But that’s okay. You know it all, now.”

_Clickclickclickclick._

 “Let’s kiss and make up, baby. Then we’ll go find Shaun and be a family again, okay?”

Snow against her lips. When she was little she used to eat snow all the time. She loved the coldness, and the numbness with it. More than that, she loved that going inside again made her lips tingle and pulse with new warmth. Just like all of Nate’s kisses, there was no warmth to be found. The chill crept across her face and deep into her bones.

The gunshot reverberated through the vault, muffled by her cryopod prison. Shaun was crying. Her teeth clacked and chattered and she screamed. Her hands pounded on the glass. She’d seen it before. She saw it every time she closed her eyes. It’s always the same. She cried and fought and the gunman-Kellogg, she heard the name in the back of her mind-took her child away.

Except this time. The glass _cracked._ She paused for the smallest of moments, mesmerized by the crystalline fracture. The affront to her never-ending nightmare. She howled and reared her fist back. Kellogg smirked, but the scientists in hazmats began to panic. The bolt of fresh anger couldn’t stop the chill from returning.

The thaw used to hurt. Her eyes would be on fire, and she’d ache down to the bone. This time, she couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to it. Her fist bumped against the cracked glass, limp and lifeless. The announcement system droned on like always. She stopped hearing it a long time ago. The door opened, and she stumbled toward Nate’s pod.

“Oh, god,” she wheezed.

She always said that. She had stopped meaning to say it, but the words still tumbled out. She activated the panel and reached for the dials on her Pip-Boy. She gripped her bare wrist instead. Nate’s corpse stayed frozen in place. She slid his ring from his finger. She hadn’t done this since the first time. It felt right to take it now.

She rested her forehead against Nate’s frozen kneecaps. Her body shivered and she cupped the loose ring to her chest. Fingers stroked at her hair and the shell of her ear. She looked up and sniffled. Nate was still, his hands frozen limp at his sides. His eyes were closed. She got up and pressed a kiss to his lips. She heard the smallest sigh, felt the puff of frost. She pulled back and reactivated the cryopod, wiping tears from her cheeks.

Nate stayed still. He looked the same as when he slept. She slipped his wedding band next to her own and made her way through the vault. She had it memorized, of course. The gun, the baton, all of it. The Radroaches hadn’t even had time to swarm properly. Her first time, they had mauled her to a bloody mess. She didn’t hear Nate’s dragging steps following after her. She looked over her shoulder every minute, waiting for his ghoulish corpse to drag itself around a corner. It didn't.

As she made to pass the cafeteria, she paused. She had investigated the vault a time or two, but her priority had always been Shaun. She found herself standing before the bathroom mirror. She looked as she always had. Preserved time and time again by whatever her life had spiraled into. The eyes looking back were hers and not hers.

"Why me?" she asked her reflection.

"You chose this, Nora," her reflection replied. "You choose this every time."

"Was there-" Nora bent her head, tears smudging her mascara. "Did I even have a chance?"

"It's how it ends. It can't be changed." Her reflection stared blankly. "The paths branch, but Fate demands certain prices."

Nora looked at her unfeeling reflection and felt her shoulders sag. They had both always worked together through the obstacles of the Commonwealth. Always looked for ways around things, for ways to change the world for the better. How many years had she been doing this? She had no way to keep track. Nothing she did ever stayed.

"I…Don't want to do this anymore."

"You can't take this back, Nora." Her reflection wavered. "You won't wake up again."

"I've found my son," she felt old. Old and tired and hopeless. "My world is dead and gone."

Nora reared back, thrust her fist into the glass, and plucked a shard from the fractured image of herself. She'd bled more than her fair share since she'd begun, but this time, the blood on the glass seemed so much brighter. The words tumbling from her shaking lips were guttural and alien. As she plunged the glass into her chest, she felt nothing but relief. Tendrils of shade burst from the wound, before all at once receding.

The sun was always too bright at first. She took an all-too-big breath of air and smiled as she knelt into the patchy grey grass. The dry earth clung under her fingernails as she dug. She pulled the two rings off her fingers and buried them. The sun warmed its way into her core, and she felt something pulse through her flesh. Tiny blades of green grass peaked through her fingers, and two ugly, mutated flowers bloomed into existence.

“Goodbye Nate, Nora,” she brushed dirt off her hands. "Thank you."

It was strange, to be alone with her thoughts. To be the one to feel the ache in her thighs as she strolled down the hill. She took a deep breath and felt the breeze rustle her hair. Her hair, not Nora's. How exciting this would be, to feel and live the wasteland for herself. She'd seen through Nora's eyes, of course, but she had been a passenger then. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride, and all that. She whistled a wedding march and headed for Red Rocket, dreaming of 2288.


End file.
